leeches, beaches and bush arrangers

im back back from the other sideback from my wanderingsme and michael h and russell p kwe take the ferry over to bundeenaits already pissing down rainwe go into cafe for last civilized meal for a while(toasted tomato sambo w/ brown bread, mixed berry soy smooothie)i ask the guy in the caff for the weather forecastthis produces much laughter in kitchenmate, its gonna be loike this till friday…the intrepid 3 get underwaybefore we’re even in the national parkywe are already soakedfor the 1st time of manyrpk looks up at the gathering stormcloudsand saysi reckon its starting to clear up,i can see some blue….yes there it isnext to the black and grey and nimbuswe begin our walkinitially other 2 laughat yer intrepid walker, skcos i come equipped with ye olde brollybut i’s a little bit drier than othersnever mindsafe and warm in mah backpacki have dry clothesa pillowsome ‘ome comfortsah…!back to nature babywe stop for first of many specialbushwalker cigarettesalthough i have not brought any foodor useful utensilsi score brownie pointsfor my big bag o pam and perrys finestplus my insect repellent andmy box of wipiesthat i stole from ye olde baby bounceras i left homenow a nice joint can go both ways in the bushit can get yer mind off the hard slogor it can make ya real real lazyso you dont wanna keep goingsk very proud of his bush skills(can roll a spliff in windANDrainw/ filter and everything)now luckilyrpk has catered nicely for walkieand never surprises methe delicacies he whips out of his huge packfor us to munch onthe terrain changin’ all the timeone minute a lonely beachstrugglin’ thru the sandperfect white star shaped shellsblue bottles swelling up and poppingsea weed (kelp, i need somebody)all the debrisdriftwood, empty suntancreme bottlesthen you climb upthe rain beating downsks black cowboy hatnow […]

im back
back from the other side
back from my wanderings
me and michael h and russell p k
we take the ferry over to bundeena
its already pissing down rain
we go into cafe for last civilized meal for a while
(toasted tomato sambo w/ brown bread, mixed berry soy smooothie)
i ask the guy in the caff for the weather forecast
this produces much laughter in kitchen
mate, its gonna be loike this till friday…
the intrepid 3 get underway
before we’re even in the national parky
we are already soaked
for the 1st time of many
rpk looks up at the gathering stormclouds
and says
i reckon its starting to clear up,
i can see some blue….
yes there it is
next to the black and grey and nimbus
we begin our walk
initially other 2 laugh
at yer intrepid walker, sk
cos i come equipped with ye olde brolly
but i’s a little bit drier than others
never mind
safe and warm
in mah backpack
i have dry clothes
a pillow
some ‘ome comforts
back to nature baby
we stop for first of many special
bushwalker cigarettes
although i have not brought any food
or useful utensils
i score brownie points
for my big bag o pam and perrys finest
plus my insect repellent and
my box of wipies
that i stole from ye olde baby bouncer
as i left home
now a nice joint can go both ways in the bush
it can get yer mind off the hard slog
or it can make ya real real lazy
so you dont wanna keep going
sk very proud of his bush skills
(can roll a spliff in wind
w/ filter and everything)
now luckily
rpk has catered nicely for walkie
and never surprises me
the delicacies he whips out of his huge pack
for us to munch on
the terrain changin’ all the time
one minute a lonely beach
strugglin’ thru the sand
perfect white star shaped shells
blue bottles swelling up and popping
sea weed (kelp, i need somebody)
all the debris
driftwood, empty suntancreme bottles
then you climb up
the rain beating down
sks black cowboy hat
now a grey shapeless splodge on his head
we enter a grove of trees
shoulder height
they complete the job of drenching us
now totally soaked
trudging thru the mud and sand
sea eagles and kestrels hang in the air
vicious aust. ants that dont back down
the australian nature is wild, relentless
this aint some nothern hemisphere
half tamed woodland
that sleeps thru winter
this is a young virile pulsating creation
full of stuff
strangling itself, breaking forth
bugs worms bees birds snakes lizards spiders
flowers weeds trees mountains
and its all going all the time
rpk says theres a kiosk over yonder hill
im imaginin’ all the things im gonna buy
hot chocolates, cold chocolates
tepid chocolates
but guess what
the kiosk owner didnt open up
seeing how its a grey rainy wednesday
and theres no one about
we curse him and his offspring
but rpk whips out some nice rolls
(hes my roll model)
after more trekking we reach our camp
guess what everything in my back pack
i will survive
others go to find firewood and fresh water
naughty sk espies a tube of condensed milk
mmmm aint seen one o those in ages
despite being a vegan
despite that this tube must be the milknsugar
for many cups o tea
sk despicably sucks most of it down
and has to guiltily bear blame
everytime cups of tea are made
and drunk
all very unmilky and sweet
we build a fire (not sposed to)
we set up our tent (not sposed to be doing that either)
we have mash potato and pasta for dinner
normally this woulda been a carbohydrate mush
but out here
was a feast fit for a king
we drink some jack daniels
bugs come rushing out of the burning logs
millipedes, bush cockroaches, ants
smoke blows in our eyes
we are wet but happy
we’re hardcore arent we says rpk
the very hardest, we reassure him
sk wakes up cold, sore and sorry
we get up
its still kinda raining
we pack up move on
an early morning joint
gets us all weary and sleepy again
but we must move on
we take some wrong ways
up and down cliffs
rpks knee gives out under pressure of his heavy pack
he needs to lean on me going down the hills
i sing
he aint heavy hes my brother
lean on me brother, when you need a hand
we pass thru weird little villages of huts
no water no lecktricity no nuffink
one place called the love shack
has been abandoned
i look in thru the lianas and vines
broken windows, still got furniture inside
dishes still in the sink
i guess love can go wrong
we walk along a beach
rpk starting to struggle
mh and i share his pack
fuck its heavy
rpk says theres a kiosk on next beach
we waddle towards it for hours
but its closed
we take a track thats been closed
due to rockfall
we walk along under cliffs
that obviously are eroding and dropping
huge boulders down
theyre strewn all over the path
the tides coming in
caught between the wild grey sea
and the threatening rocks
hanging out improbably
over yer humble hero
surfers hurry on by
they stand on ledges and launch emselves into
the forbidding brine
the true bohemians
they carve thru the waves
weaving their arabesques
in the violent heaving sea
i admire these guys
the true frontiers
the real artists
doing stuff no one will ever see
anyway after
long corridors of sand and challenging ants
moors and mountains
fields and fountains
we enter the rainforests
the leechies are on us immediately
they are virtually indestructable
you cannae squash em
or break em
or hurt em
you can jump up and down on em
scrape em
bash them
they dont care
the only thing they really hate
is a sustained blast of cig lighter
but even as youre trying to burn em off
theyre trying to latch on to the hand
thats holding ye olde lighter
down yer socks they go
i see rpks got at least 6 going down each boot
we cant stop to sort em out
or more will climb on
eventually we get to a rock
hanging out over a valley miles beneath
the other 2 bouys have bleeding feets
the leeeches inject something
to keep your blood from coagulatin’
we fight the fuckin leechies all the way
(a bit like yon music industrie)
never mind says rpk
when we get to train station
there will be hot chocolate and Candy Barres
there aint
we cant even buy a ticket
cos we only have notes and no coins
later mh and i get busted for not having tix
can you prove you have no change?
says a crew cutted oaf in uniform
eventually we dont know if weve gotten a fine
or not
typical australia
we still picking off leeches on train
i fling one to floor of carriage
and am quite delighted
when it crawls up the leg of a “straight”
who gets on at town hall
straight up the “straights” suity pants it goes
hell get a shock when sometime tonight
he finds a big blood filled worm
sucking on his thigh
or maybe worse
ha ha
what could i do…?
eventually arrive home
hot radox bath
limp around knackered
my family gather around
to hear my tall tales and true
it was like this…..

see ya soon

if youre still with me

the black corridor of timethe delicious hit of spacedeath/sex/drug/fuck/dreamhere we areout here togetheragainyou know what i meanwere gonna seduce this whole universewe gonna have our way with the stars(the stars, baby)you and iall of you and all of ithe sweet merger of everythingatom for atombit by bittit for tatwe always knew this was all herewho kept us outbut ourselves?im writing this to you nowbecause we have always been in lovein the anguish of our luscious separationin the mornings of serene lonesomenessduring the unbelievable and outrageous strugglejust to be here nowat allyou were always on my mindyou were always on my mindvoices in side tell us what to sayive spoken to you beforefrom the wingsfrom the shadowsi wrote you a letteri couldnt posti did a picture of youi couldnt bear to starti have gone through so muchso much more to goweariness without youbut something charges usintake of energetic refill completein dark nights prior to earthwe struck up a conversationremind all yourselvesi was theresay ityes you are my old companionthose were good timesmillion years of lives telescopes2 compact seconds nowmaybe irretrievableyou gotta try hardyou gotta try harderyou saywhat do you wantwho are youwhy should i listen to youi sayi dunnomaybe because we arethe only ones heremaybe because itcould make you smileand for some strange reasonand despite all i knowwhen you smileit makes me gladthat i waded through the swampyforest/city/fortress/matter/spiritbaybeeim sorry to tell you nowlook at the maplook at the clockwe only just began this yesterday morningwe have been restingrevive drive survivenow aliveand kicking at the pricksfrom the thorny fucking pathsthat lately i had been a’wanderin’whatever that means to youanywayif youre still with meits so sad that we meet this wayafter all that we were along timeagonevermindive started to get used to some of itbut i still wish thati would getinvitedto thereunioni have […]

the black corridor of time
the delicious hit of space
here we are
out here together
you know what i mean
were gonna seduce this whole universe
we gonna have our way with the stars
(the stars, baby)
you and i
all of you and all of i
the sweet merger of everything
atom for atom
bit by bit
tit for tat
we always knew this was all here
who kept us out
but ourselves?
im writing this to you now
because we have always been in love
in the anguish of our luscious separation
in the mornings of serene lonesomeness
during the unbelievable and outrageous struggle
just to be here now
at all
you were always on my mind
you were always on my mind
voices in side tell us what to say
ive spoken to you before
from the wings
from the shadows
i wrote you a letter
i couldnt post
i did a picture of you
i couldnt bear to start
i have gone through so much
so much more to go
weariness without you
but something charges us
intake of energetic refill complete
in dark nights prior to earth
we struck up a conversation
remind all yourselves
i was there
say it
yes you are my old companion
those were good times
million years of lives telescopes
2 compact seconds now
maybe irretrievable
you gotta try hard
you gotta try harder
you say
what do you want
who are you
why should i listen to you
i say
i dunno
maybe because we are
the only ones here
maybe because it
could make you smile
and for some strange reason
and despite all i know
when you smile
it makes me glad
that i waded through the swampy
im sorry to tell you now
look at the map
look at the clock
we only just began this yesterday morning
we have been resting
revive drive survive
now alive
and kicking at the pricks
from the thorny fucking paths
that lately i had been a’wanderin’
whatever that means to you
if youre still with me
its so sad that we meet this way
after all that we were along timeago
ive started to get used to some of it
but i still wish that
i would get
to the
i have to go now
i cant even think now
why it was so important
to tell you all this
im sinking back into character
my part reclaims me
i am back to normal
i still love you tho’

crisis of faith/manifesto

i need to define this whole thingi need to talk to myselfi need to explaini am confusedi have maybe been surprised by myselfif youre in this far im gonna strip back a layer of skinfor yai told yai dont know what im doing here(any “here” you like)three months ago i never even heard of bloggingi got no agendai got no bitter spleento vent particularlywhy should i?cos im a master chef who has one of the best vegan gourmetrestaurants in the worldyou think that i fucking care that kfc sells a billion bux more than the organic crunch?heyi have never or will never delete a commentthe “straights” and bohemians thing…a novel must have a protagonistANDan antogonistits not all black and whitenothing is absoluteeverything is a mixturei am largei contain contradictions(no anonymous of nowhere, that aint my own quote)i know a guy whos a doctorsuit, nice house, all thathe would seem to be a “straight”but he spends his life in malawi, vietnam, mongolialooking into sanitary water conditionsi dunnohis heart is more bohemianthan a million clowns in kaftans smokin potthis dude has defied my catergorizationanother guythis one long hair, musician, does yogabut a mean n nassty little manthat ya’d like to stranglewhere does he fit in?i dunno eitherof course i know its not us versus themon some levels…howeveron some levels you could not denythat there are certain over ambitious individualsaspiring to western pseudo christian ideals(cmon, as soon as the first kid diesyou can count jesus out!!)who, trampling on spiritual values(other than their own)seem to find reasonsto invent nasssty weaponsstart warsexterminate naturewarp this planetor maybe justcatalogpersecutecagewasteuse upburn outmanipulatecontrolthe rest of usnow on a sliding scalewhere keef richards = max bohoand gw bush= max straightyoud find many in the fuckin middle who….hang on a minute….it was a bit of a joke for fuck sakeand yetthe […]

i need to define this whole thing
i need to talk to myself
i need to explain
i am confused
i have maybe been surprised by myself
if youre in this far
im gonna strip back a layer of skin
for ya
i told ya
i dont know what im doing here
(any “here” you like)
three months ago
i never even heard of blogging
i got no agenda
i got no bitter spleen
to vent particularly
why should i?
cos im a master chef who has one of the best vegan gourmet
restaurants in the world
you think that i fucking care that kfc sells
a billion bux more than the organic crunch?
i have never or will never delete a comment
the “straights” and bohemians thing…
a novel must have a protagonist
an antogonist
its not all black and white
nothing is absolute
everything is a mixture
i am large
i contain contradictions
(no anonymous of nowhere, that aint my own quote)
i know a guy whos a doctor
suit, nice house, all that
he would seem to be a “straight”
but he spends his life in malawi, vietnam, mongolia
looking into sanitary water conditions
i dunno
his heart is more bohemian
than a million clowns in kaftans smokin pot
this dude has defied my catergorization
another guy
this one long hair, musician, does yoga
but a mean n nassty little man
that ya’d like to strangle
where does he fit in?
i dunno either
of course i know its not us versus them
on some levels…
on some levels you could not deny
that there are certain over ambitious individuals
aspiring to western pseudo christian ideals
(cmon, as soon as the first kid dies
you can count jesus out!!)
who, trampling on spiritual values
(other than their own)
seem to find reasons
to invent nasssty weapons
start wars
exterminate nature
warp this planet
or maybe just
use up
burn out
the rest of us
now on a sliding scale
where keef richards = max boho
and gw bush= max straight
youd find many in the fuckin middle who….
hang on a minute….
it was a bit of a joke for fuck sake
and yet
the more i think about it
it aint a joke either
someone wrote in and said
we cant all smoke dope and paint pictures….
why not?
would the world stop turning?
wouldnt the whales be happier if we did?
wouldnt the elephants and tigers and rhinos and bears and dodos
and tassie tigers and the children in afgannystan
and actually most o the planet actually
im sorry
the war has been cancelled
theyre all painting and smoking dope.
smoking dopes another issue for some
who said it was illegal?
dont tell me it was a”straight”
trying to disenfranchise some one
didja know i got busted for attempting to buy smack
thats not quite right
i already had it
i’d gotten away with it
i was giving some money to the dude whod helped
me out
he had nothing to do with it
and the cops thought we was doing a deal
they always gotta give ya a new bogeyman
someone theyre protectin ya from
always some war on something
something to keep ya scared
while they fuck wid cha
for their own purposes
i dunno what they wanna acheive either
i just wanna smoke paint and dope a picture!
and puh leese
the cool guys and gals
i already said it
this is me
this aint no poem on the inside of starfish
i dont spit out dreamy bullshit all the time baybee
you cant come on my bloggy
and come the raw prawn with me
about ye olde arte
i do this for free
an coupla hours a day
for nothin
dont question my commitment to art
this is my diary
if you want something arty
see if michael stipe has got a blog
maybe hes spoutin’ prose all day and nite
yer free to say whatever you like
but remember
i gotta lotta xperience
i work on a lotta levels
i aint no black and white ranter
on some levels
but never a complete barreling oaf
just shouting out
his polemic
yeah i was caught with smack
am i ashamed
fuck no
embarrassed for my family, maybe
what a waste of time the whole thing was
much ado about nothing
a storm in a tea cup
but it distracted ya
long enuff
that while you were thinking
of naughty olde sk in jail
for druggies
some little kids
got their heads napalmed
or some poor bastard was being tortured in prison
(fill in yer own horror story here)
thats right
thats what all the bad news does
how about some good news
fireman rescues cat from tree
husband loves his wife
bumper crops of marijuana
growing in the ruins of the pentagon
bombers traded in for swimming pools
and libraries
defence budget blown on painting and ballet
secret police resign to become old age carers
greenpeace and amnesty go outta biz
cos theres no more need
i never lied to ya
i tried hard on every record for ya
not to talk down to ya
selecting only the finest original lyrics
and songs for your pleasure
i never dumbed it down
or took the easy option
i aint no bitter failure
i sold over 2 million records baybee
i know i aint the biggest
see if bonos got a blog if yer want that..
i dined with princes and
i dined with kings
and i aint ever been too impressed
you cant come on my blogg
and be holier
or hipper
than me
you can (theoretically)
be equal
but never more
if i come on your blogg
its the same
this is my life
this is my blog
i give it to you
not for money
for power
for fame
i dont wanna impress ya
but its nice when it happens
that i do..
dont give me yer worldweary stuff
i was doing worldweary
when you were still in
your mummies womb
dont give me tripe about rehab
i was in rehab before you
had yer first bud light
dont give me flowers
its cruel to cut em down
i dunno
this has meandered all over the place
i started off there
but ended up here
please dont pray for me
(god: why are ya praying for him
hes never worked in his life
hes got 5 beautiful daughters
hes got a load of lovely fans
who he loves
hes got a record deal
hes got a band
hes quite a nifty basse geetarist…
what the hell dya want me to do for him
hes laughing all the way to the blogg

thats it you lot
i dont care who i alienate with my mild jests
do ya think andre breton fucking cared?
or do you think baudelaire was worried
in case some small soul branded “paris spleen”
as bitter?
hell no
neither do i
if ya with me
i love ya
if ya not
what the fuck are you still doing here, sunshine
thats it
im gonna go bushwalkin soon
no bloggs maybe for a while


helloi know you come hereto get away from it allto relaxyou dont wanna here about troublesfamines virusesso im just gonna give a brief mentionto the 18 afghaniswho died yesterdayblown to bitsmenWOMENAND CHILDRENAND CHILDRENthey may or maynot have been hangingwith a guywho may or not have beena bona fide villainim sure the children knew little about all thatthey were probably living in some inconceivablesqualorin some shackhow the fuck would i knowanywaythey were all blown awayto kingdom come, baybeeyeahand probably more toochildren that isin some pathetic dirty hospitalwith burnsblown off limbstheir childlike hopes and dreamsdestroyedim sorry to bring y’all down with thisi should just write a little poem for yawe can all pretend this aint happ’ningpeoplehave ya ever heard of the hydrafor every head ya cut off2 grow backnow i may be just a fuckin washed up olde rockerwho knows absolutely nuthinbout foreign affairs, politicsterrorismetcbut i know thisif someone blew my village awayif someone blew my daughters awaymy soft delicate childrenwhose every hair and freckle i knowand hold preciousif some drone bomberfell on my motherand some smart bombblew my fuckin familyto smitha fuckin’ reensi i would drop everything i was doingi would dedicate whatever energieswhatever gumptionstrengthwherewithalwhateverto get evenrevengehow come i can see thatim sure you can see itand then some grinninglying WORMwill appear on telytalking freedomlibertyand quoting FUCKING JESUS CHRIST!to justify these ATROCITIESall for our sakefor peacefor democracyim sorryim rantingand im cryingwho will tell those peoples story?who will compensate their families?who have killed more INNOCENT CHILDRENthe fuckin; “terrorists”or the goode guys?the allies?the white middleaged alpha maleswho have already turned the 21st centuryinto another bloodbathsame as the last onesame as the one before thathow can we go onwatching our sportrocking in the free worldhaving our little worriesfeathering our fuckin’ nestsim sorrybushblairand the sorry little twatcalled howardme, i disconnect from youwhat could i write […]

i know you come here
to get away from it all
to relax
you dont wanna here about troubles
famines viruses
so im just gonna give a brief mention
to the 18 afghanis
who died yesterday
blown to bits
they may
or may
not have been hanging
with a guy
who may or not have been
a bona fide villain
im sure the children knew little about all that
they were probably living in some inconceivable
in some shack
how the fuck would i know
they were all blown away
to kingdom come, baybee
and probably more too
children that is
in some pathetic dirty hospital
with burns
blown off limbs
their childlike hopes and dreams
im sorry to bring y’all down with this
i should just write a little poem for ya
we can all pretend this aint happ’ning
have ya ever heard of the hydra
for every head ya cut off
2 grow back
now i may be just a fuckin washed up olde rocker
who knows absolutely nuthin
bout foreign affairs, politics
but i know this
if someone blew my village away
if someone blew my daughters away
my soft delicate children
whose every hair and freckle i know
and hold precious
if some drone bomber
fell on my mother
and some smart bomb
blew my fuckin family
to smitha fuckin’ reens
i would drop everything i was doing
i would dedicate whatever energies
whatever gumption
to get even
how come i can see that
im sure you can see it
and then some grinning
lying WORM
will appear on tely
talking freedom
to justify these ATROCITIES
all for our sake
for peace
for democracy
im sorry
im ranting
and im crying
who will tell those peoples story?
who will compensate their families?
who have killed more INNOCENT CHILDREN
the fuckin; “terrorists”
or the goode guys?
the allies?
the white middleaged alpha males
who have already turned the 21st century
into another bloodbath
same as the last one
same as the one before that
how can we go on
watching our sport
rocking in the free world
having our little worries
feathering our fuckin’ nests
im sorry
and the sorry little twat
called howard
me, i disconnect from you
what could i write here?
where are the words to summon up
the contempt
the rage
the cripplin’ fuckin helplessness
that i feel
when you worms
cowardly lying
rotten bloodthirsty
fuckers who have never
fought or been shot at
whose families are always nice and safe
i tell ya fiendss
my dad was in the 2nd world war
and he saw killin’
and he saw bloodnguts
but no glory
and he never could bring himself to fuckin kill a fly after it
was all over
so when you see the inevitable consequences
when something nassty happens in “the free world”
hate will only ever beget hate
love is the way
but i fuckin hate bush
and hitler
and stalin
and fuckin blair howard
napoleon bonaparte
and whoever
and i would gladly
beat everyone of em over the head with mah fuckin fender basse
if i got the chance
if there is a hell
if there is a realm of hungry ghosts
if there is punishment
if karma exists
if there IS an equal reaction
then their gooses are cooked
please lord shiva
please satan
please tash
please dark malevolent spirits
who swallow the souls of
childkillers and cowards
i petition you this
im sorry
i cannae stand it
fuck poetry
fuck music
fuck tv
fuck your little job and yer mortgage
how can we pretend this shit aint happning?
im sorry
dont fuckin write me a comment saying stick
to what you know, olde bean
normal service may be resumed tomorrow
i love you guys
thanx for listening
i had to get it off my chest
i am a human being
every mans death diminisheth me

sundae mourning….ice cream for you

the day of restbig ole jehovah look down at goode yonder earthybaybeehe knew this thing t’was goodeolde big J thinks to his fine selfim a fuckin geniusive just created the whole world!how could any one ever gimme a badde revueyou see folksgod was the original bohemiancreative handsomewith a big white beardyhmmm that reminds me of someone….noi don’ know anyone like thatany wayjehover feeling pretty knackered after thatcreation(that gets me thinkin’…did he make it up as he went alongORhad a lotta planning gone intothis little universe…..?we’ll probably never know….}anyway{bitto dye greshun for ya}anywayjay hover feeling very sleepyyou know how it is…..and he, secure, in the knowledgethat hes done the PERFECT GIG EVERcloses his magnificent deep grey eyesand restsand rememberIT IS sunday morninggreet the dawningetceverythings quietthe earth sleeps in spaceheaven divine slumberBUTwhats this!!!???a devious proto “straight”has already enteredthe sleeping sunday suburbsamong the push-bikes and pottery shedsthe quiet fountains and gazebosin the heart of edenand even inmerimbulaa critican obsequesious worma presumptuous craven little devillittle lucyfurnasty fellowthe father of all “straights”{sk, yer demonizing em now, fer heavens sake}no lil devil dont dig this great bohemian creationhe cant create himselfyou all see that, dontchahe was jus’ plane fucking jealoushe starts to carp onbout this and thatso and sosuch and suchwhat a little ratbaggestupid devilto get even with gods forestshe dreams up factoriesfor every bee , a flyfor every sea, a pitfor every cloud, a fumefor every bohemian, a “straight”im sorryto have to tell you all this todaythe sabbath{no pea brain rockah, not THAT sabbaff}the balance is evenevery action an opposite and equal reactionunified fieldno one here is gonna yieldmagnetic stripgot me further in its gripso love those “straights”my peoplethey ARE necessary the balance must be maintainedfor every “straight” that comes overto our sideone of “us” slips backinto barbarism and shadowif you have any of these […]

the day of rest
big ole jehovah
look down at goode yonder earthy
he knew this thing t’was goode
olde big J thinks to his fine self
im a fuckin genius
ive just created the whole world!
how could any one ever gimme a badde revue
you see folks
god was the original bohemian
creative handsome
with a big white beardy
hmmm that reminds me of someone….
i don’ know anyone like that
any way
jehover feeling pretty knackered after that
(that gets me thinkin’…
did he make it up as he went along
had a lotta planning gone into
this little universe…..?
we’ll probably never know….}
{bitto dye greshun for ya}
jay hover feeling very sleepy
you know how it is…..
and he, secure, in the knowledge
that hes done the PERFECT GIG EVER
closes his magnificent deep grey eyes
and rests
and remember
IT IS sunday morning
greet the dawning
everythings quiet
the earth sleeps in space
heaven divine slumber
whats this!!!???
a devious proto “straight”
has already entered
the sleeping sunday suburbs
among the push-bikes and pottery sheds
the quiet fountains and gazebos
in the heart of eden
and even in
a critic
an obsequesious worm
a presumptuous craven little devil
little lucyfur
nasty fellow
the father of all “straights”
{sk, yer demonizing em now, fer heavens sake}
no lil devil dont dig this great bohemian creation
he cant create himself
you all see that, dontcha
he was jus’ plane fucking jealous
he starts to carp on
bout this and that
so and so
such and such
what a little ratbagge
stupid devil
to get even with gods forests
he dreams up factories
for every bee , a fly
for every sea, a pit
for every cloud, a fume
for every bohemian, a “straight”
im sorry
to have to tell you all this today
the sabbath
{no pea brain rockah, not THAT sabbaff}
the balance is even
every action an opposite and equal reaction
unified field
no one here is gonna yield
magnetic strip
got me further in its grip
so love those “straights”
my people
they ARE necessary
the balance must be maintained
for every “straight” that comes over
to our side
one of “us” slips back
into barbarism and shadow
if you have any of these symptoms
please see a bohemian specialist
before its too late
whos side are you on?
1. desire to go down the pub and scoff sausages
drink bevvies
play darts an ‘ ‘ave a laff w/ the boize
2. a desire for power over fellow men
especially pertaining to wars, prisons, mines
slaves, the fucking rat race, papparazzi,
whalers, hunters, empty suits, and rude
3.a desire to write ye olde sk
a nasty comment
4. theres no 4 iran outta ideers
so there you go
if you have any of that
do not panic
it may just be a slight case of materialism
drop 2 mushrooms and read me in the morning
if yer answering yes yes yes
i want my power
i want my
i want my gold chain
i want my beere belly
i want my botox and my
gosip rags
i wanna be a cog in the great machine
give me the lexus
give me the plexus
give me the whole box and dice
youre saying that
just remember
just remember, you lapsed fiend
look at what happened
and is gonna happen
to yer grande progenitor
yeah you know who i mean
that stupid little devil
dont be elzy, bub
evil aint fun
we gotta get back to the gaarden
we gotta be nice to each other
have a luvly sundae
as always
at yer service
dj stevie k

adventures in the blog trade

hot day againwe bathe in a sea poolwe see a chameleon octopusdark in crevicebeige against sandabsolute waterfront locationfor 3oo bucks a yearyou getcha own keyscome and swimANYTIMEhot summer nightsnuditychampagneecstasytragic drowningsdont blame metheres that piper to paybut until a giant octypusdrags ya downwhile ya loadedand drownin’ well……..now im off to buy some fixativesure sk, nudge , nudgeno i mean the stuff thatya have to spray onto make the pastels stickto the paperotherwise it falls offor smears upso ya gotta fixx its assonceANDfrallnevermind all thatwhat would i knowa few years backi thought pastelwas blackcurrantand covered in icing sugarand came in a little tinfor a sore throatieANDa sweet toofi usually have bothmy sweet toof is legendarystephen cummings said in an interviewthe 1st time he met meiwas reading the bhagavad gitaand knocking down a carton of custardtalking of that gentdidja know he wrota bookand i(slightly changed)am in that bookactually im a kinda kompositeof about 3 people note to my real regsthe chosen onesthe ones who have my earthe ones with affinityyeah you know who you arecapt emission and cosomeone i loathe more than pea brain rockersare ya ready…..ROB THOMASenuff saiddiatribe deleted by my consciencecmon sklay some poetry on us, maaangive some of tha straynge stuffyeah but hang a minutethis bloggs for freegratisPOETRY COSTS MONEYit dont grow on fucking treesthis is a blogits my diaryits my impressionsits whatever i thinknow, mah sweet baybeeif ya want some poetrymaybejustmaybei can rustle something up for yalooki aint got nothing preparedokim just gonna make it upas i go alongare you readythe poem will begin sooncopyright controldont download this poem my friendor i’ll have a big pack o lawyerscancelling your passport and creditcardsbefore you can saygo rimbaudgo rimbaudok(NO this still aint the poemplease be patient)so no nicking me prose poemno quotin’ it to yer special laydyand saying yeah did ja […]

hot day again
we bathe in a sea pool
we see a chameleon octopus
dark in crevice
beige against sand
absolute waterfront location
for 3oo bucks a year
you getcha own keys
come and swim
hot summer nights
tragic drownings
dont blame me
theres that piper to pay
but until a giant octypus
drags ya down
while ya loaded
and drownin’

now im off to buy some fixative
sure sk, nudge , nudge
no i mean the stuff that
ya have to spray on
to make the pastels stick
to the paper
otherwise it falls off
or smears up
so ya gotta fixx its ass
nevermind all that
what would i know
a few years back
i thought pastel
was blackcurrant
and covered in icing sugar
and came in a little tin
for a sore throatie
a sweet toof
i usually have both
my sweet toof is legendary
stephen cummings said in an interview
the 1st time he met me
iwas reading the bhagavad gita
and knocking down a carton of custard
talking of that gent
didja know he wrota book
and i(slightly changed)
am in that book
actually im a kinda komposite
of about 3 people

note to my real regs
the chosen ones
the ones who have my ear
the ones with affinity
yeah you know who you are
capt emission and co
someone i loathe more than pea brain rockers
are ya ready…..
enuff said
diatribe deleted by my conscience
cmon sk
lay some poetry on us, maaan
give some of tha straynge stuff
yeah but hang a minute
this bloggs for free
it dont grow on fucking trees
this is a blog
its my diary
its my impressions
its whatever i think
now, mah sweet baybee
if ya want some poetry
i can rustle something up for ya
i aint got nothing prepared
im just gonna make it up
as i go along
are you ready
the poem will begin soon
copyright control
dont download this poem my friend
or i’ll have a big pack o lawyers
cancelling your passport and credit
before you can say
go rimbaud
go rimbaud
(NO this still aint the poem
please be patient)
so no nicking me prose poem
no quotin’ it to yer special laydy
and saying yeah did ja like that
mmmmm no i knocked it off meself

dont try that
just enjoy ok?
just appreciate the hell out of it
give it some in yer life, brunhildy
take it to yer heart, disgruntled crunch fan of bogna regis
try this then baby chile of honeysville
after a preamble like that
the pressure on yer humble grumbler
to deliver some goodes
maybe i should be a preamble specialist
easier than pomes
you can boss the audience around more
i should bloody well
knuckle down
write mah pro’s pome
and split to yonder arty supply shoppe
(still a hot bus ride away)
get me fix
and get
where i belong

i am already in another world
with you
we meet on the shore
the sun is so weak
the sky is so close
what did you bring with you
i ask
you smile
you point to the birds
i say
anything else
you smile again
you open your tiny white hand
you are holding a little box
open it
you say
inside its empty
the box was my life
you say
the emptiness is love

something huge moves in the sea
when i look back
youre gone

just givin ya some space
to change from poetry
back to blog
i have to let it do what it wants
i promise therell be
a good blog real real soon
i love ya

fried day on my mynde

in the windowconvenience shopa warm sultry eveningeveryone dressed up to the nineshandbags, boas, hi heels, hairdoyer eyehadow and glitteris outtasiteno courtesan could begin to decipheryer beam of lightvery obnoxious toxiousrap playin loudlywreakin’ havoc with my tinnitusplus not having had my dinnerbeen atta meetingwith others from the crunchbut not pkhes in the tropics of coursetrying to plan some stuffuh ohnot my forteim in charge of esoteric affairsthats my dept.in the hulking church skyscraperin downtown bondi junctionwhere we convenea whole floor of esoteric conceptspeople scuttling aboutdoing esoteric jobslet me tell yaits chaos most days i cant go into that soulscraping crunch corporationthe boardthe share holdersthe tea light holdersthe holder naminuteresponsibilitya gaggle of secretariesfollowin’ me aboutoh mr kilbey, dont forget your pedicure at 3sorry mr kilbey, but some dude from the vatican ,sirhe wouldnt take nothe punishing schedulesthe important meetingsthe glasses of red vino and cigarsthe free first class flightsand accomodation in the casinomanthe bizness side of rockcan do yer head inevery boddy wants the poore olde crunch at the momenti spend my dazesitting in a roomfielding offershedging my betstaking it all onmyselfsorting the spielburgsfrom the sondheimscan the crunch open our bridge?can the crunch come back to bannockburn please?can the crunch play at my aunties wedding?can the crunch be in this blockbustah mooovie?can the crunch come on hereand talk about thisand then go thereand talk about thattheyre beginning to twigsk is one bona fide eccentricolde fashioned renaissance stylecommon or garden GENIUSthe crunch are the true fuckin spiritof rocknroll baybeecmonlittle womanyou know that its troo!we will gladly pass this torch onBUT WHO WILL BEAR IT?many are calledfew are chosenrocknrolls no jokedont you wanna get free?ultcgonna get ya where ya wanna goi should knowive been thereand its a goode plaice me and 2 others fromgilt tripeclimbed up to a high plateaulast nitelook out over oceanor […]

in the window
convenience shop
a warm sultry evening
everyone dressed up to the nines
handbags, boas, hi heels, hairdo
yer eyehadow and glitter
is outtasite
no courtesan could begin to decipher
yer beam of light
very obnoxious toxious
rap playin loudly
wreakin’ havoc with my tinnitus
plus not having had my dinner
been atta meeting
with others from the crunch
but not pk
hes in the tropics of course
trying to plan some stuff
uh oh
not my forte
im in charge of esoteric affairs
thats my dept.
in the hulking church skyscraper
in downtown bondi junction
where we convene
a whole floor of esoteric concepts
people scuttling about
doing esoteric jobs
let me tell ya
its chaos
most days i cant go in
to that soulscraping crunch corporation
the board
the share holders
the tea light holders
the holder naminute
a gaggle of secretaries
followin’ me about
oh mr kilbey, dont forget your pedicure at 3
sorry mr kilbey, but some dude from the vatican ,sir
he wouldnt take no
the punishing schedules
the important meetings
the glasses of red vino and cigars
the free first class flights
and accomodation in the casino
the bizness side of rock
can do yer head in
every boddy wants the poore olde crunch
at the moment
i spend my daze
sitting in a room
fielding offers
hedging my bets
taking it all on
sorting the spielburgs
from the sondheims
can the crunch open our bridge?
can the crunch come back to bannockburn please?
can the crunch play at my aunties wedding?
can the crunch be in this blockbustah mooovie?
can the crunch come on here
and talk about this
and then go there
and talk about that
theyre beginning to twig
sk is one bona fide eccentric
olde fashioned renaissance style
common or garden GENIUS
the crunch are the true fuckin spirit
of rocknroll baybee
little woman
you know that its troo!
we will gladly pass this torch on
many are called
few are chosen
rocknrolls no joke
dont you wanna get free?
gonna get ya where ya wanna go
i should know
ive been there
and its a goode plaice

me and 2 others from
gilt tripe
climbed up to a high plateau
last nite
look out over ocean
or back towards city
bridge and oppa house
warm humid night
the coastline
one headland after another
reaching into pacifico
black and blue water
ships out at sea w/ pink lights
twinkle twinkle
people in their rooms
smoking dope
drinking beer
watching telly
talk about the inevitable past
olde school teachers
we had this fuckin cat
called doctor h.
from hungary or somewhere
in some other place and time
this guy musta been more than a school teacher
some kinda honcho or bigwig
and he dont like being at bully high
in the early seventees
teaching latin to long haired scum
like steven kilbey and his ilk
sometimes he raves on for whole lesson
about WW2
or modern youth
or politics
he hates to be thwarted
has a wicked accent
he asks my parents for permission to psycho analyze
he calls me lazy lousy boof
tells me hes gonna make me repeat
soon i work up a good impression of him
still makes my brother
(who had him too)
laugh 33 years later
i bet they dont have teachers
like him any more
he fuckin thought he had yer
humble hero sussed
he didnt think
i’d have a little audience
who all around the world
sat at their computahs
and read about him
and his adventures
at bully high

im gonna leave ya there
in school
with the doctor
its 1972
and yer learning yer catullus
yer having a vegemite bun
and a chocolate milk
for lunch
or ya could go drivin’ round
in yer muvvers triumph herald
but for now
the docs on yer case
nah! kilbey you nasssty fellow
conjugate five verbs
that form irregular pluperfect
um err well
never mind kilbey
you nasssty repeater
youll get a chance to do it all again….
next year

hey doc!
guess what?
i never repeated
but i only just passed….
its a fuckin’ dead language
see ya later fiendss
vera semper colere

so full of emptiness

rainy thursday morningeveryone still asleeplast night the twilliesflew off homesorry readerssk feelingdazed and confusedmorning radiogonzo hyperbolic tasteless noisythey highlight thisby playing danny my-nogue (a vitriolic libellous rant hasbeen deleted by skslong suffrin’ solicitor) morning has a wayof underlining all the thingsthat are going wrongnight camouflages our shortcomingssleep comes and we restobliviousunaware if we are kingsor slaves the jonesin’ addictthe soberin’ alkythe unfaithful loverthe condemned manall theseand morefear the first rays of that olde sunblasting into your morasscooking your (mock) goosefrying your mindparalyzing ya once upon a timei hated morningthe letters a.m.could induce nauseafrom fifty paces11 oclock was my bottom lineif anyone called before thati’d lie there thinkingrude bastards….sod offnowi dont mind it too muchas long as i feel i havemy own place in the morningall those “straights”and trainee “straights”whizzin’ off to work in their4 weal drive behemouthsslicked downcaffeine and nicoteenadjustedalready on mobysetting up dealstakeovers, appointmentsyou get the pictureonly deal i ever set up at 7 in morningwas drug dwarfed by the hustle bustlescared of the rushing carschev brakes are snarlingas i stumble across the roadthought i saw you in a convenience storewriting bloggies cold and longsitting in this windowlooking at the pacifick ogrey and silverguys with dreadlox cycle pastearly morning cops amblelike bearsjap tourists alight from buscouncil workers lean on shovelssurfers in wetsuitscarrying their boards on shouldershandsome and zensome trainee “straights” lurk at busstopsuitiesgel jeltiesattache casesnicely polished shoesgo my songet on that busclimb that ladderdominate your rivalsthe captains of industry old russian guysalready playing dominoesor cardsin the little benches around the pavillionalkies assemble in little pickernic hutson the lawns opposite the seathey assess their combined gross available capitalthey convene a meeting to decidewhat new purchases should be implementedthey choose a representative and a secondto ensure transactions success joggers in pastelssorry my runnersbut you got a LONG way to run…flags flap […]

rainy thursday morning
everyone still asleep
last night the twillies
flew off home
sorry readers
sk feeling
dazed and confused
morning radio
gonzo hyperbolic
tasteless noisy
they highlight this
by playing danny my-nogue

(a vitriolic libellous rant has
been deleted by sks
long suffrin’ solicitor)

morning has a way
of underlining all the things
that are going wrong
night camouflages our shortcomings
sleep comes and we rest
unaware if we are kings
or slaves

the jonesin’ addict
the soberin’ alky
the unfaithful lover
the condemned man
all these
and more
fear the first rays of that olde sun
blasting into your morass
cooking your (mock) goose
frying your mind
paralyzing ya

once upon a time
i hated morning
the letters a.m.
could induce nausea
from fifty paces
11 oclock was my bottom line
if anyone called before that
i’d lie there thinking
rude bastards….sod off
i dont mind it too much
as long as i feel i have
my own place in the morning
all those “straights”
and trainee “straights”
whizzin’ off to work in their
4 weal drive behemouths
slicked down
caffeine and nicoteen
already on moby
setting up deals
takeovers, appointments
you get the picture
only deal i ever set up
at 7 in morning
was drug

dwarfed by the hustle bustle
scared of the rushing cars
chev brakes are snarling
as i stumble across the road
thought i saw you in a convenience store
writing bloggies cold and long
sitting in this window
looking at the pacifick o
grey and silver
guys with dreadlox cycle past
early morning cops amble
like bears
jap tourists alight from bus
council workers lean on shovels
surfers in wetsuits
carrying their boards on shoulders
handsome and zen
some trainee “straights” lurk at busstop
gel jel
attache cases
nicely polished shoes
go my son
get on that bus
climb that ladder
dominate your rivals
the captains of industry

old russian guys
already playing dominoes
or cards
in the little benches around the pavillion
alkies assemble in little pickernic huts
on the lawns opposite the sea
they assess their combined gross available capital
they convene a meeting to decide
what new purchases should be implemented
they choose a representative and a second
to ensure transactions success

joggers in pastels
sorry my runners
but you got a LONG way to run…
flags flap emptily
the birds arrive
the omnipresent
mynah birds
taking over
running the avian world
babes and proto babes
strut along
ipodded, suntanned
the rich euros
staying in the hotel above come out
500 bucks a night, brunhilda
and we get weather like this rubbish
hey hans
aint that stevie k from the crunch
in yonder window typing dilly gently
at his goode blogge?
yes bunhildy dear
and to think we came
all the way from frankfurt
and we hoped we’d see im
pottering round bondi
and bang!
1st morning…
ohh hans , kids
lets get a picture w/ him
nay my good wife
i hear he is a rude unapproachable
olde rockah
my cousin gert met him once
in stuttgart
and yonder sk
was pompous and sarcastick!

yes im sorry
i have been known to be rude
ive also been known to be nice too
but that knowledge has been withheld
suppressed by the “straights”
people like to think im a ratbagge
and it can seem like that
even to me…
its ok
suffer them slings and arrows
of outrageous fortune, olde bouy
in 2030 documents will be revealed
that will prove priest=aura
was the true grail
despised for its ability
to destroy illusion
the “straight” oligarchy cabals
fixed its bad review in 1992
rolling stone
thus dooming it
i gotta hold on to 2030
i gotta be vindicated
i will be re awarded
post humourously
all the emmys
that i shoulda had

keep on rocking in the three worlds


hotter than hell/never again

i wake upits six in the morningalready angry sun focussing down thruthe open windowsits already about 30 degrees(thats fucking hot in farenheit)tiotoe outta housedown to poolalready arms and legsgoing in and outeven from a distancethe human creaturescan be seenas they splash in their poolpeople say good mornin’ to mesome i hardly knowsome i gotten to knowwella fraternity of swimmersa brotherhood of brinebig waves come over the sidethe humans all collidethe sea is coldas it comes over the sideas its gets closer to ninethe “straights” pull on their disguisesthey apply the gel and aftershave and underarmthey shavethey check their abs and flabsin the smirking mirrorsk jumps inpeople going everywherea tanned oaf swims up the down lanecrashes into yer humble breast strokin’ herosk gives extra kicky up into oafs tummy wummyoh sorry mate….you ok…?uh oh big wavies1st seen as ominous shadowas i watch the beautiful patternsthe sand and tide(AKA GOD)have arranged on the pools bottomfor bohemian swimmahs to gaze uponand marvelsuddenly the lines which demarcate the slowthe mediumthe fastand thejesus matewhat are ya…a fish?lanessk somewhat dishonestly is in fast lanedue to less numbers in heresuddenly all the disparateindeeddesperate swimmersleave their collectiveup, slowdown , fastlanesand the poolnow like a giant washing machineagitatesand mixesthe helpless humansstangling em in the floating linesslamming into the walland each otherbugger this for a larksays ye olde heroand climbs outdespite shocked looksfrom regularswho knowskalways does ‘is 20at least, baybeebut noid rather do me chi gongand split take care of good yon bloggyget in a banana and date soy smoothietake the tribe to brekky somewhere(but its a hottun out there folks)(im braving considerable uv collateral damageto bring you todays edish)my mother says to me all weekendyou look burntyou look brownyou look too tannedyou do look fit thobut mumi ALWAYS wear my hati never court that fat ole sunim stevie hiddenand […]

i wake up
its six in the morning
already angry sun
focussing down thru
the open windows
its already about 30 degrees
(thats fucking hot in farenheit)
tiotoe outta house
down to pool
already arms and legs
going in and out
even from a distance
the human creatures
can be seen
as they splash in their pool
people say good mornin’ to me
some i hardly know
some i gotten to know
a fraternity of swimmers
a brotherhood of brine
big waves come over the side
the humans all collide
the sea is cold
as it comes over
the side
as its gets closer to nine
the “straights” pull on their disguises
they apply the gel and aftershave and underarm
they shave
they check their abs and flabs
in the smirking mirror
sk jumps in
people going everywhere
a tanned oaf
swims up the down lane
crashes into yer humble breast strokin’ hero
sk gives extra kicky up into oafs tummy wummy
oh sorry mate….you ok…?
uh oh big wavies
1st seen as ominous shadow
as i watch the beautiful patterns
the sand and tide
have arranged on the pools bottom
for bohemian swimmahs to gaze upon
and marvel
suddenly the lines which demarcate the slow
the medium
the fast
and the
jesus mate
what are ya…a fish?
sk somewhat dishonestly is in fast lane
due to less numbers in here
suddenly all the disparate
desperate swimmers
leave their collective
up, slow
down , fast
and the pool
now like a giant washing machine
and mixes
the helpless humanss
tangling em in the floating lines
slamming into the wall
and each other
bugger this for a lark
says ye olde hero
and climbs out
despite shocked looks
from regulars
who know
always does ‘is 20
at least, baybee
but no
id rather do me chi gong
and split
take care of good yon bloggy
get in a banana and date soy smoothie
take the tribe to brekky somewhere
(but its a hottun out there folks)
(im braving considerable uv collateral damage
to bring you todays edish)
my mother says to me all weekend
you look burnt
you look brown
you look too tanned
you do look fit tho
but mum
i ALWAYS wear my hat
i never court that fat ole sun
im stevie hidden
and the shade menne
but the sun has become

we did it
we went and fucked up our own planet!

enuff of that
i hate it when yer rockers
or rollers
start pontificating
you know
that its some real genius
who has the good overview
a word to the wise guys
the real thing
of course
i cannot help but nominate myself
into this rarefied category
after having written loads of songs
who better
qualli fied
than ye olde mee
to sit in his cyber armchair
and put things right
so here goes…
for a start…
i’d like to rant on about….
i’ll spare the gruesome details

just jokin folks
this blog is guaranteed
politicks free
we all agree
that they are unspeakable wretches
we leave it at that

been enjoying my MIMESIS stuff
getting near to finish
maybe jus’ one more track to fix up
in a way musical equiv.
of this goode blogge
polinski and pals
provide lush
while i
tap straight in
and let it out
jlk does b. vox
then poli and men
fuck w/ it bigtime
with all the latest
tricks in the book
i tell you
its the best record ever made
by anyone
and no one
ever will
make a record
as good as this
and thats no exaggeration

the release of the crunches new disc
like a maw
in march
or is it febby?
who knows
is there anyone out there
who didnt download
their own little version
its ok
the damn thing
well over a year old now
the “boys” should do something new
this excites me
we are getting better
contrary to the norm
against all odds
ha ha
who woulda thought that
rock band becomes
more subtle
more gestalt
more involved
more connected
it doesnt normally go like that
i reckon yer gonna like ultc
its chunky
its got muscle
what does it matter
how it came into yer possesh
i aint no school teachah
chasin’ down you little criminals
and pi-rats
we still out here
trying for ya
and we dont aim on
ever disappointing ya
now i wanna get onta
something new
make some new stuff
pull it outta the thin air
which is laden w/ gifts
if we could but grasp ’em
i gotta create something
the crunch are gonna turn a new korner
we gonna meander down the paths
of possibity
we gonna getta
spacerock opera
outta our system
we gotta make a racquet
hail hail rocknroll
is it love
that makes us rock???

now go home

la blog de le ettiene kilb-eye

bonjour fiendssi have no idea what im gonna write todayim in a diffrent caff for a startits actually a convenience storewith a few computahs in ye olde windowa little bit o’l’initativea quick cokey colaha bit o la gelatine sweetiesa munch o monosodium gluteous korne chippswhich reappearas chipps on yer shouldera packet of paradise beach lights 50s(have your own seain yer lungs)a gossip raggy or twooh you mean fabulously welfyaktas get happy and sadand fat and finnand marrid and schplittskyand bourne and dye….JUST LIKE US DRONESSS???????wowand the pictures to prooove itany waysomeone has left my preset button on rantand had cause to hit it HARDmy attack is turned way upno releaseno decaytotal sustainokim jus’ gonna adjust the ole sksoftware hereim gonna tweak a few dialshang on……sound of seat being put infootstepsfrom a distance we hear.look…hello…can i just reserve my computah for a few secsyeah no. 2 in ye olde windoweyeah i know i’ll keep on paying…ok******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************* ok im backi smoked a joint of maui wowiei took some owsley lsdi did extract of condensed chi gong-yprana yawnaswam the baywrestled a giant “straight”who had risen from its murky bedand had tried to drag me down to its lairto feed me to itsravenous youngso here i amthe way you expect mewashed and ready to readnew leaf turn overthats the wayim always here you knowvoices in my head tell mewhat to writethey competei already told you thatsk basically just a machinethat selects the voicesa mental chairmaanok mr rant, what have you got to say fer yerself…?alright mr sentimentle how was bully high today…?mr jealous, whos character will ya ass sass inate toodaymr modest…ahh we dont hear much from you…do we…?mr humble……where you been druid?mr show off….no you done had yer say for todaymr arty, got any etchings?mr druggy, please wake upmr funny, are you in […]

bonjour fiendss
i have no idea what im gonna write today
im in a diffrent caff for a start
its actually a convenience store
with a few computahs in ye olde window
a little bit o’l’initative
a quick cokey colah
a bit o la gelatine sweeties
a munch o monosodium gluteous korne chipps
which reappear
as chipps on yer shoulder
a packet of paradise beach lights 50s
(have your own sea
in yer lungs)
a gossip raggy or two
oh you mean fabulously welfy
aktas get happy and sad
and fat and finn
and marrid and schplittsky
and bourne and dye….
and the pictures to prooove it
any way
someone has left my preset button on rant
and had cause to hit it HARD
my attack is turned way up
no release
no decay
total sustain
im jus’ gonna adjust the ole sk
software here
im gonna tweak a few dials
hang on……
sound of seat being put in
from a distance we hear.
look…hello…can i just reserve my computah for a few secs
yeah no. 2 in ye olde windowe
yeah i know i’ll keep on paying…

ok im back
i smoked a joint of maui wowie
i took some owsley lsd
i did extract of condensed chi gong-y
prana yawna
swam the bay
wrestled a giant “straight”
who had risen from its murky bed
and had tried to drag me down to its lair
to feed me to its
ravenous young
so here i am
the way you expect me
washed and ready to read
new leaf turn over
thats the way
im always here you know
voices in my head tell me
what to write
they compete
i already told you that
sk basically just a machine
that selects the voices
a mental chairmaan
ok mr rant, what have you got to say fer yerself…?
alright mr sentimentle how was bully high today…?
mr jealous, whos character will ya ass sass inate tooday
mr modest…ahh we dont hear much from you…do we…?
mr humble……where you been druid?
mr show off….no you done had yer say for today
mr arty, got any etchings?
mr druggy, please wake up
mr funny, are you in charge of this section???

long breaths
must relax
my brain is storming
mem o rees
soother nears

where was i?
all over the plaice
where were you?
we were here
why do i pretend to answer
for some 2nd party
when its just me?
we dont know either

swedish gurlss last day
in austrayliah
sk understandably a little misty
get over it olde beane
strange to have teenage daughters
and all the rest of it
dont lay no boogie woogie
on the king of rocknroll
mah dortahs…
how can 2 identical people
be so different
like 2 different singers
doing the same lovely song
emphasising different bits
harder and softer
on opposite things
so alike that i still confuse em,
much to their chagrin

and so at completely
opposite ends of the
whole deal

someone said to me
i dunno how 1 manne
can have 5 beautiful daughters..?!
i go
ha ha yeah…
but later
i think of all the things that
go wrong
and i feel blessed
and grateful
thus far
because my daughters are
not a badde lot
(as modern kidss go)

roxette on radio
i do not mourn their demise sir
waste of three minutes
of yer preshuss time
listen to yer heart indeed
if they hadda done that
that woulda nae have written
this fucking tripe

oh mr rant
your back….!

hot steamy day in sydney
sun breaks thru black cloudies
wham bang
you got some serious hugh middity, bubba
never mind
canberra was hot and dry
emphasising the fact that
yer in
the middle
of nowhere

my olde house
which in my day
sat on top
of a hot dry hill
is now a mansion
replete w/
willows a weeping
tropical lanscapin’
cape kodpiece
stucco stuccorl ovah it
transformed, my patrons
the phantom yooffull sk
flitting its corridors
violin basse strapped on
at all times
pudding bowl prince valiant
flannel shirty levi faded
washed out pimple creamed
marc bowlin’ on the wall
my dad says
only clever thing about that bastard
is that he can spell tyrannosaurus

maybe the new owners
can still faintly hear
25 or 6 to 4
going round and round

well believe it or knot
but thus far
la blogge has taken up nearly an hour
in that time
a load a awful music
on ye olde radioh
loads o nasty munchies
and tocksick sodahs
wracked up

what a spot for an olde bohemian jeanius
upfront in the window
of ye olde fucken conveenients store
everyone together now
i’ll get over it fiends
im sensitive
but im tough too
i will survive
i did it my whey
hey hey